Clarity
by tractor
Summary: From her birth to being institutionalized by her family, this is a short story about Alice's life before her transformation.
1. Before the Light

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Alice, or any part of Twilight. I am making no money off of this. I am poor.

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She was born twenty three minutes after the new year began, ushering in 1901 with the frenzied joy that accompanies a new born child. After trying, and failing, to conceive a child, Walter and Clara Brandon had turned to modern medicine. They spent years going from physician to physician, spending their life savings on new age remedies. Eventually, after their money was gone and the last bottle of fertility tonic was empty Walter and Clara gave up hope. A year passed and time began to take its toll on their relationship. Walter's law firm had lost a startling amount of cases in the past year, and could not afford to pay all of its workers. He had been losing business to the firm of Morrow and Scott, and now he had began to lose his employees too. He no longer had enough man power to win cases, and it would seem that Walter Brandon, LLC was going to be out of business in a few short months. Meanwhile, Clara had begun to look after her sister's children. What at first seemed like a good idea had revealed itself to be a rather bad one. Clara hoped that being around Nellie's children would help fill the void that her infertility had created. Yet, to be so close to something that you want so badly--to hold it in your arms and read it stories, to look it in the eyes and see everything you can't have--is a most sublime form of torture that Clara became well acquainted with. Nothing seemed to fill the vast emptiness that Clara lived in. It had begun to consume her, and she was slowly wasting away.

Suddenly, everything changed. Clara discovered she was pregnant. She and Walter were in disbelief. They had let go of their dreams of having a child. They had reassured themselves that fate never intended them to have a family. And with these false reassurances, they had let go of hope. But somehow Clara had become pregnant, and with this miracle the Brandons began to hope again. With this hope came dreams; they dreamed their child would be a doctor or a world explorer. They dreamed of infinite futures for their unborn child. This child would be one of the most well taken care of children in all of Mississippi, they decided, because fate had given them what they wanted most in the world: a family. Yes, the Brandons decided, it would seem that fate was not as cruel as they had thought.

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Clara had been in labor for almost six hours when bells began to chime, announcing the beginning of 1901. Biloxi had been experiencing torrential rainstorms all day, masking the presence of time in an all consuming darkness. For all Clara knew she could had been in labor for days, not hours. Another horrible pain racked her body and Clara screamed.

"You're almost ready Mrs. Brandon, you're doing good." Doctor Hason looked to the nurses, "Where's Alice?" he asked.

The nurses made eye contact with each other. A nonverbal exchange between the two made it seem as if the shorter one had lost. She patted her pompadour, looked from Clara lying in bed to the doctor who had his stethoscope pressed to her stomach, and sighed; "I'll go get her," she said. There was something unsettling about Alice. All the nurses avoided her, and if confronted with this fact they'd stammer and say, "there's just something different about her, she's not quite right" . The short nurse cursed her luck as she made her way towards the nurse's station.

"Yes, Marge?" the lithe blonde sitting behind the counter asked.

"Dr. Hanson wants you in the maternity ward, the Brandon woman is about to give birth."

"Alright. Susan," the blonde said turning to the red headed woman next to her, "will you watch the station for me?"

Susan popped her gum and nodded slowly as Alice stood. Alice was an intimidating figure. She was tall, taller than majority of doctors that worked at St. Joseph's Hospital. Her blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, which exaggerated her sharp features. She didn't talk to the other nurses unless it was necessary. People seemed to recoil from her presence and she found that it was best if she avoided contact with others. It had always been that way. Despite all this, Alice did exceedingly well with the patients. One touch of her cool hand to a patient's brow and their pain seemed to fade away. Her voice could make a dying man forget about the cold chill of death and take him back to the warm days of his youth. It was because of these special people skills that Alice did most of her work in the maternity ward, tending to the mothers and their newborn children. Entering the room Alice looked at the doctor.

"Ready Nurse?" he asked.

"Yes Doctor."

"Take your place by Mrs. Brandon."

Alice took a sponge and a pan of water over to Clara and began to wipe her brow as the woman in the bed moaned. Alice rung the sponge out in the pan and pressed it to Clara's brow, "Everything's going to be alright Mrs. Brandon. The baby will be here in no time. The first baby of the year, what a divine gift."

"Alright Mrs. Brandon," the Doctor said, "this baby is ready to come out now. When I say push I need you to concentrate all your effort on pushing. Ready Mrs. Brandon? Okay. Push."

And with all the effort Clara had left, she pushed. A scream tore lose from her throat and in the hallway Walter put his head farther into his hands. At Doctor Hanson's repeated prompting Clara put every fiber of her being in to pushing. She was exhausted, but exhilarated. She was going to have a family. At the end of the bed the doctor called the short nurse over and whispered something in her ear. The doctor spoke up, "You can relax Mrs. Brandon". Clara laid back onto the bed, panting. Alice spoke up from beside her,

"What is it, Doctor Hanson?"

He looked up at Alice, and then Clara. The doctor cleared his throat. "Mrs. Brandon, your baby is in breech position. We should be able to…" the doctors words seemed to fade. Clara's throat tightened. The doctor's lips moved but no sound was coming out. What was happening? Breech position? What was that? Could fate be cruel enough to take away her baby before she even had a chance to meet it? Clara's thoughts raced and she started to hyperventilate.

"Mrs. Brandon, Mrs. Brandon!" the doctor attempted to get Clara's attention, "Mrs. Brandon, I need you to breath! Alice, calm her down!"

Alice had put down the pan and the sponge, her hands went to Clara's. "Mrs. Brandon," she said forcefully as Clara's clouded gaze met hers, "I need you to focus. Breathe Mrs. Brandon."

Doctor Hanson put his stethoscope to Clara's stomach, pulling it away he said, "The baby is distress. You need to keep her calm, Alice."

Alice regathered Clara's hands into her own, she look Clara in the eye, "You can do this. The baby is going to be okay. It's just backwards, that's all. You can do this Mrs. Brandon."

"My baby…" Clara panted from the bed. She could hear the blonde woman, but not the doctor. What was happening to her?

"Will be just fine. You need to breathe Mrs. Brandon, for the baby," Alice said. For the baby. The room began to regain its shape before Clara's eyes and she could hear the doctor talking,

"Okay, Mrs. Brandon, when I say push, push. Ready Mrs. Brandon? Alright, now push."

And on the doctor's orders, Clara pushed, determined to deliver her baby. Clara heard Doctor Hanson's declaration of, "It's a girl!" and fell back on to the bed, exhausted. Next thing she knew Alice was placing the newborn girl into her arms, and Walter was by her side. The baby was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. She had layer of fine black hair on the top of her head, and big blue eyes that were gazing up at her parents.

"A girl," Walter said, "she needs a name."

"Yes". Clara responded, not taking her eyes off the baby in her arms. She could not believe that she was holding their child in her arms. The whole experience seemed so surreal.

The couple sat in silence, gazing at their newborn child. The baby was struggling to keep her eyes open. Clara spoke, breaking the silence, "I think we should name her Alice."

"Alice? I'm not sure." Walter looked down at the girl, "What about Mary?"

"I don't know Walter," Clara sighed, looking down at the sleeping child, "Alice just feels right."

The couple stayed silent, admiring the newborn once more. "How about a compromise?" Walter asked. Receiving no response from Clara he continued, "What do you think about calling her Mary Alice?"

"Mary Alice Brandon," Clara said, testing the name out loud, looking upon the small child in her arms. "Mary Alice Brandon. Mary Alice. Our little Mary Alice." She looked down once more and smiled. "I like it," she said.

Walter smiled at his wife and dropped a kiss on to the top of her head. He turned his gaze back to their child, the little Mary Alice, and smiled. He was brought out of his revere by the short nurse, Marge, entering the room. She made her way over to the beaming couple, "What a beautiful baby! And what did you two decide to name her?"

"Mary Alice," Clara said, not taking her eyes off of the child.

"Oh," the short nurse was taken aback. Alice? As in Nurse Alice? Marge hoped not, she would never name a child after that odd woman. It just seemed to be asking for bad luck. Marge shook her head. She turned her attention back to the Brandons. "Mr. and Mrs. Brandon, I would like to present to you a certificate from Chrysanthemum Formulas. Every year they donate a certificate for a year's worth of free formula to the first baby born of the year. This year, on behalf of Chrysanthemum Formulas and St. Joseph's Hospital, I would like to present it to you, along with our warmest wishes for a happy new year."

Marge handed the gold embossed certificate to Walter and, with a final glance at the child, left the room. Walter looked at the certificate and then into the face of his wife. As Mary Alice lay in her mother's arms her parent gazed into each other's eyes. Time seemed to slow down. The storm thundering outside the window appeared to fade away as the Brandons sat inside the white washed hospital room. After everything that they had been through Walter and Clara Brandon finally had the family they always wanted. It seemed as if fate had smiled upon the Brandon family and that things could only get better from here.

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**A/N:**

It looks like this is going to be a two chapter story, following Alice to her entry into the mental hospital. The next chapter should be up by the end of the week.

This is my first Twilight story. So please, tell me what you think: Review!


	2. Illumination

**Disclaimer:** It is not a dessert if it has fruit in it. Also, I do not own Twilight, nor do I make any profit off of my voyeuristic ventures into this realm of fiction.

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In the months before Mary Alice was born the Brandon house had been in a state of limbo. Walter and Clara were in a state of extended disbelief. They tip toed around the house afraid to jinx the good fortune they had been blessed with. The guest room at the top of the stairs had been rewallpapered in a neutral pattern--green and white stripes stretching from the floor to the ceiling--and the room had been sparsely furnished. A wooden crib, painted white, was placed under the window that looked over the backyard. A matching changing table sat next to an oak rocking chair. After Clara and Walter decorated the room, they shut the door, and the mood in the house took on an air of suspense. A month before the baby was due Clara's sister Nellie visited the Brandons for her weekly tea. Sitting in the parlor Nellie confronted her sister,

"Clara, you're having a baby."

Clara looked at her sister and patted her stomach, "Why yes Nellie, I am. What gave me away? My stomach, perhaps? I assure you, it is not the éclairs. There is indeed a child in here. "

Nellie gave Clara a hard stare, "Clara, you're having a baby. There's nothing in the upstairs room. You and Walter lurk around the house afraid of making loud noises. Making a noise louder than a whisper won't make you lose the child Clare. You're having a baby, when it gets here it's going to be loud. You need to get used to noise Clare and you need to get used to the fact that you're having a baby."

Clara was silent. She ran her finger around the edge of her teacup, and softly said, "There is stuff in the upstairs room."

Nellie shook her head at her sister, "The baby is going to need more than a crib and a chair. It's going to need clothes and toys too, Clara."

"I just… I just don't want to lose it Nellie. And you can't lose something you never had." Tears stung Clara's eyes, "I don't want to lose it."

Nellie set her teacup down and embraced her sister. Running her hand through Clara's hair Nellie comforted her, "Shhh, oh shhh, Clare sweetie, you aren't going to lose the baby, Clara, Clara, Clara."

That night Clara couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about what Nellie said. As Walter snored softly beside her she felt the baby move in her stomach. Pressing her palm to her stomach Clara closed her eyes.

Clara felt like she was awake, but the only plausible explanation for the vivid images she was seeing would be that she was dreaming. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope. Clara saw rain and heard a clap of thunder. The scene changed. She saw a little girl with red hair. The scene changed. She saw herself crying, Walter with his head in his hands next to her. The scene changed and time seemed to slow slowed. Now it was sunny outside and she was in the room--the nursery--at the top of the stairs. Something behind her made a high pitched noise and it took a moment for Clara to realize that it was laughter. She saw herself turn around and bend over the crib, when she straightened up she held a little girl in her arms. Clara watched herself sit in the rocking chair, cooing to the baby. The little girl smiled in her mother's arms, she had small brown curls atop a face with wide blue eyes and a pointed chin. Clara gasped, was this her child? She felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks.

Clara opened her eyes and found herself in her bedroom, lying next to Walter, one of her hands on her stomach. Lifting her hand to her face she wiped at the tears; her dream had felt so real. The next day she made breakfast and told Walter what Nellie had said. She hadn't told him about the dream, but it seemed that overnight the melancholia that had once occupied the house was gone.

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Mary Alice had her first real vision when she was four. This vision hadn't been like her previous ones-- before Mary Alice didn't even know that should could have visions, the flashes of time that interrupted her day were inseparable from her imagination. But not this one; this vision was tangible. She had been in her room, daylight spilling in through the window illuminating the dust particles that were floating through the air, playing with her dolls. Francesca, the doll with brown curls, was talking with Felicity, the doll with blonde hair, about getting the ceilings dusted,

"You can see the soot marks from where Mr. Thomas was smoking his pipe," Mary Alice said in a falsetto, gesturing with the doll, pretending to be Francesca.

"Well it wasn't me, Francie. Perhaps Mr. Thomas was smoking his pipe in the parlor. You do know how he likes his pipe. Where is he?" Felicity responded in a low voice. Mary Alice dropped the dolls and turned to her toy chest, digging through it to find the hare. She had just clasped her hand around Mr. Thomas when it happened.

Mary Alice's back went rigid, and Mr. Thomas dropped out of her hand. She saw her room, sunlight spilling in the window highlighting the gold flecks of dust in the air. She watched as her mother entered the room and told her to clean up. Mary Alice saw Francesca and Felicity laying on the floor. She saw herself putting her toys away as her mother folded blankets. Then she saw her mother pick her up and--

Mary Alice was thrown out of the vision with force. The four year old sat panting over the toy chest. She heard footsteps on the stairs and stood up, wanting to tell her mother about the dream she just had. The door opened and Clara came in the room,

"Mary Alice sweetie, put your dolls away. Aunt Nellie is her and she wants to see her favorite niece!"

Mary Alice looked down at Francesca and Felicity. They looked exactly as they did in her dream: Francesca face down on the floor, Felicity laying face up next to her. Looking at her dolls Mary Alice understood that she hadn't been dreaming. It was like she was like the fortune tellers that lived down by the docks. Her vision had been inconsequential and inexact, especially when compared to the visions she would have in her next life. But Mary Alice knew at the young age of four, somewhere deep down, that she could see what was going to happen before it happened. Her mother picked her up and carried her out of the room. Mary Alice put her head on Clara's shoulder she carried her down the stairs.

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Mary Alice was seven when she met the boy next door. It was the summer of 1908 and the humidity was oppressive. It was too much work to even think about moving around in that type of heat. Mary Alice was laying in the backyard, letting the grass tickle the back of her legs as she watched the clouds roll across the sky. The humidity seemed to push her farther into the ground, making her move slowly, but the fast pace of the clouds made her mind soared. She was staring at fluffy white cloud, which if she squinted her eyes just right looked like, when she felt someone staring at her. Quickly she pushed herself up onto her elbows. She surveyed the yard, her blue eyes flitted from the flower bed, scanned the fence line, and glanced at the giant sycamore tree in the back of the yard. She looked over to a group of hydrangeas and called out,

"Hello?" She turned her head to the tulips that lined the other side of the garden asked, "Is anybody there?"

Mary Alice exhaled and fell back on the grass. She was probably just hearing the things. That happened to her often, and when she was a little kid she used to think she was magic. But when she told her mother about her magic powers Clara had pronounced it "déjà vu". Clara explained to Mary Alice that it was a common occurrence, just part of the human condition to think that we have that much control over our lives. She explained to Mary Alice that she wasn't seeing the future, but just reflecting back on the past, making the unfamiliar seem familiar. Well, Mary Alice thought, it sure seemed to happen to her a lot. With a roll of her eyes, Mary Alice blew a puff of air up into her bangs and turned her eyes back to the sky, scanning the white puffs for the giraffe that she spied earlier.

Mary Alice woke suddenly. She didn't remember falling asleep nor did she remember why she woke up. The sun was lower in the sky than she remembered, but it still hung high enough to temporarily blind Mary Alice. She rubbed her eyes, trying to regain her sight, when felt a prickly feeling on the back of her neck. She felt like she was being watched. Déjà vu. Mary Alice pushed herself up onto her elbows looked around the garden. Blue met brown. There was a boy, about her age, looking through a hole in the fence. Mary Alice scrambled to her feet,

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?" the boy asked back, impertinently.

"I don't have to answer that question. I'm not the one spying," Mary Alice spat back at him.

There was silence from the other side of the fence. Mary Alice thought he wasn't going to answer and had turned her back to the fence when he said, "My name's Arthur. Arthur Doyle. I'm spending the summer with my aunt who lives here. What's your name?"

Mary Alice studied the eye that was peering at her through the fence. It wasn't bad looking eye. It was brown, like the color of bark on a sycamore tree. She bit her lip, "I'm Mary Alice. I live here all the time."

"Do you want to come over and play?" the boy asked, "It's better than just laying about by yourself."

Mary Alice's mouth fell open. Just how long had he been watching her? She pushed her chin out defiantly. "I can't leave the backyard. My mom and dad won't let me. I'm just fine by myself anyways."

"That's okay," said the boy, and suddenly the brown eye was gone. Mary Alice frowned as she heard the voice moving along the fence, "I'll just come over there."

Next thing she knew there was a tapping noise coming from the side gate. Mary Alice walked slowly towards it, not quite wanting to let the boy in. Reluctantly she swung the wooden latch up and pulled the gate open. The boy that stood on the other side was a little taller than Mary Alice, and a little older than she had first thought. He had soft brown hair that fell into his eyes and a smile on his face that made Mary Alice uneasy. He looked like trouble.

Mary Alice looked him as he walked into her yard. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Pardon me?" he responded.

"What are you doing here? I don't remember inviting you in. I okay by myself, you can go--"

Arthur scoffed, "You were sleeping! And during the middle of the day no less! Just like my Great Uncle Alphard, and according to my mom he's a drunkard." Arthur eyed her suspiciously, "You aren't a drunkard, are you?"

Her mouth fell open again. While she wasn't entirely sure what a drunkard was, she was pretty sure she didn't want to be one. "I am most certainly not a drunkard! I am a lady!"

He laughed at the look on her face. "A lady ! If you don't mind me asking, how old are you, Lady?" The last part had been said in jest.

She stuck her tongue out at him and said contemptuously, "I'm seven."

"Ha! I'm nine!" He smiled at her, it was that same smile that made Mary Alice's stomach uneasy. "That makes me two years older than you. That means you have to do what I say."

"I do not!"

"Do to!"

"No way. You can't just boss me around." Mary Alice smiled, "You're my guest! You have to do what I say!" Her smile wavered. Suddenly she felt stiff. Her head felt like an elephant was trying to escape. She was feeling a déjà vu coming on.

"We'll see about that. Let's play a game--" Arthur was interrupted by Mary Alice's mother opening the back door.

"Mary Alice, dinner is ready!" Clara paused as her eyes fell upon the two children in the yard, "Mary Alice, who is this?"

Her mother's sudden interruption had jolted her oncoming headache. It appeared as if there would be no more déjà vu today. "Mom, this is Arthur. He's staying with Mrs. Coolridge next door."

Clara smiled at the young boy, "Hello Arthur, my name is Mrs. Brandon. Would you like to join us for dinner?"

Mary Alice looked at Arthur, her eyes wide. She silently shook her head at him. If he noticed her he didn't let on and he responded, "Thank you Mrs. Brandon, but my Aunt is expecting me home soon."

"Alright Arthur, well, it was night to meet you," Clara said, still smiling.

"It was lovely to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Brandon," he turned to Mary Alice, "I supposed I'll see you around."

She looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. See him around? Most certainly not.

Clara grabbed Mary Alice's hand gently, "Stop making that face Mary Alice, now say goodbye to the boy."

Mary Alice looked at Arthur, then down to her feet, she mumbled, "Goodbye Arthur, see you soon. I guess."

After Arthur left the Brandon's backyard, Mary Alice latched the gate shut behind him. Reluctantly Mary Alice followed her mother into the house, only half listening to her chatter. She was thinking about Arthur. She had a feeling that she would see much more of him, against her wishes. Mary Alice turned her attention back to her mother, she listened as Clara reprimanded her for not wearing a hat--telling her not lie to her and say she was because there were freckles all over her face that wouldn't have been there if Mary Alice had just worn a hat--and how many times must Clara say this for it to sink in? But Mary Alice's attention had wandered again. She had been staring at the apple tree outside the kitchen window when she noticed a robin's nest she had never seen before.

Mary Alice watched as the female Robin fed the first chick, and then the second, then ignored the third one. The baby chick chirped and chirped, struggling to get the female Robin's attention, but it was to no avail. When Mary Alice asked her mother what was happening Clara told her that someone must have touched the chick, because once a baby bird is touched by a human the mother will reject it, leaving it to fend for itself. As Mary Alice listened to her mother talk as she watched the baby robin vie for its mother's attention. The mother Robin seemed to not hear the chick's frantic cries, and as Mary Alice observed the birds outside her kitchen window, she was left with a feeling in the pit of her stomach that things were about to change.

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**A/N:** It wasn't supposed to be this long! It was supposed to end after two chapters! Sigh. It would seem that another chapter is in order, I can see the end of the fic, even though it seems to be getting farther and farther away. I have so many ideas and I want to fit them all all in. So three chapters it is. Or maybe four. But three is a better number, don't you think?

On a side note, did anyone catch the Harry Potter reference in this chapter? :P

Thanks for taking the time to read and review!


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